How Spy I Am (9 page)

I gave him a nod and
headed for the bedroom to retrieve the other scanner Stemp didn’t
know I had.

When I returned to the
living room a few minutes later, I let Hellhound’s sexy rough-edged
voice ease my frustration while he sang along with the music,
limping systematically back and forth with the scanner. The green
light glowed steadily until he neared me.

When the red light
began to flash again, I gave him a frustrated grimace and waved a
thumbs-down at my own scanner. I couldn’t get far enough away from
myself to use it. He shrugged philosophically, and I sprawled on my
worn sofa to attempt patience while he finished the scan.

At last, he reappeared
from the back bedroom and shot a thumbs-up at his scanner. I
relaxed in the knowledge that I was the only thing in the house
that was bugged.

I made space for him
on the couch beside me. “Come here,” I encouraged. “You should put
your foot up for a while.”

He stooped to give me
a light kiss. “Sorry, darlin’, I gotta go.” He limped into the
kitchen and I followed, catching up with him as he reached the
front door.

“Why don’t you stay
for a bit?” I ran my hands over his chest and leaned in to kiss
him.

His arms closed around
me, but he didn’t deepen the kiss as I’d hoped. I gave him a little
tongue-tease and pressed closer.

When I still wasn’t
rewarded with one of his world-class kisses, I reached up to nibble
his ear and whisper, “If you stay, this porn star will make it
worth your while.”

I pressed my hips
against him, running my hands down his back to fondle his ass. He
drew in a breath, his arms tightening around me, and I stretched up
again to murmur a description of exactly how he’d benefit from
staying.

He groaned, and this
time his lips and tongue met mine with the hot hunger I’d
anticipated. Just as my insides were beginning to melt, he pulled
away.

“Jesus, darlin’,
you’re makin’ this hard,” he rasped. “I really gotta go.”

I grinned and slid my
hand down to assess the enticing bulge in his firmly-packed denim.
“I was planning to make it hard. And it worked.”

He caught my hand and
held it. “Stop, Aydan, I can’t. I gotta go.”

His seriousness sent a
chill of concern down my spine, and I searched his face. “Sorry,
Arnie, I didn’t mean to push you. If you’re not in the mood, it’s
okay.”

He barked a short
laugh. “I’m so in the mood, I’m one kiss away from rippin’ your
clothes off an’ doin’ ya right here on the kitchen table.”

“Well, in that case…”
I reached up to kiss him again, but he avoided my lips, gently
pushing me away.

“Sorry, darlin’, I
really gotta go.” He jammed his boots on, wincing, and made for the
door.

I trailed him
uncertainly. “Okay. Good night…”

“G’night.” He cupped
my cheek in his palm for a moment, an indecipherable expression on
his face, and then turned and limped out.

I wandered back into
the living room. The CD had ended and silence surrounded me. I had
always prized my solitude, but the house seemed cold and empty
tonight.

I threw myself onto
the sofa, its aging springs protesting under the assault, and
stared up at the ceiling.

So much for Kane’s ‘I
love you, Aydan’. What a load of shit. He hadn’t even cared enough
to help Arnie look for me. He couldn’t wait to be rid of me so he
could make time with Honey-The-Gorgeous.

I blew out a sigh.
What the hell did I expect? He was a spy. Lying was as easy as
breathing for him. Spies didn’t worry about breaking hearts; they
just completed the mission and got out. Lucky I hadn’t fallen in
love with him.

And anyway, I could
scarcely blame him for being eager to seize his freedom. He must
have felt as though he was in some kind of purgatory, assigned to a
desk and babysitting me after his former exciting life as a field
agent.

Plus, any man in the
world would jump at the opportunity to be with a woman like Honey.
Jack. Whatever.

I let out a growl and
glared at the bandage on my arm.

Just an asset. Nothing
but an object, to be used and then discarded when something better
came along.

I jerked upright and
slammed my fist into the cushions, then sprang to my feet and dealt
the couch a vicious kick. The pain in my unprotected toes made me
yell, and I bombarded the cowering sofa with a flurry of kicks and
punches, swearing at the top of my lungs.

My fury faded rapidly
as my weakened body surrendered, and I sank to the floor, leaning
my swimming head on the seat of the sofa. The thought of the
listening device in my arm filled me with the same sick disgust as
a parasite burrowing under my skin. I shuddered and dragged myself
to my feet.

Goddammit, I was sick
and tired of playing by everybody else’s rules.

I strode down the hall
to find the peroxide bottle.

It wasn’t much worse
than removing a deeply embedded splinter. A few minutes later I
held the tiny blood-slicked capsule triumphantly aloft in the
tweezers, grinning satisfaction laced with pain.

My elation ebbed with
the realization that I wasn’t really any farther ahead. I still had
to keep the damn bug with me, or they’d know I’d removed it.

My favourite
electronics genius would know what to do with it, but Spider was
still living with his parents until his fire-ravaged house was
rebuilt. I couldn’t go over there tonight, dammit.

Still trapped. Still
helpless.

The thought caught my
throat, spurring my breath into shallow panting. The panting tried
to turn into sniffling, and I shook my head, stiffening my spine
and squaring my shoulders. I drew a deep breath and let it out
slowly.

I was fine. Just
exhausted and strung out from hunger and stress and captivity. I
could take the bug to Spider in the morning.

I’d just go and find
something to do in the mean time.

I trailed down the
hallway into my office and flopped into my desk chair. When the
computer booted up, I clicked restlessly through some email, too
tired and cranky to respond.

I eyed the phone. I
should probably call my friends and tell them I was still
alive.

Hell, what did it
matter? They’d be just as happy to find out I was alive tomorrow.
Assuming they cared more about me than Kane did.

I banished that
thought and scowled at the screen, hoping something would catch my
interest. The old crossword puzzle icon made my heart squeeze in
sudden grief.

Robert and I used to
do the puzzles together every night. After he’d died, I’d kept
playing, clinging to the nightly ritual until my pain abated enough
to let it slip away.

If only I’d understood
how much he loved me. If only he’d succeeded in whisking me away
from this godawful spy’s life.

But Stemp had ordered
his execution. Stemp, the source of all my misery.

I shook off the old
cold ache and started the crossword puzzle, holding Robert’s smile
in my memory.

The familiar iron bars
burned my skin. The air crushed out of my lungs, light fading to
blackness while I jerked and twisted frantically. I fought for
breath in mindless terror, my screams nothing more than empty
whispers.

I bolted up in bed, my
last scream still echoing in the dark bedroom.

Panting, I slumped
forward to massage my face. Apparently I’d been grinding my teeth
again, too. My jaws throbbed fiercely.

I held my head in my
hands until my pounding heart regained its normal rhythm. The
sadistic glow of my clock-radio taunted ‘3:24 AM’ and I flopped
back onto the pillow with a whimper. Only half an hour since the
last time I’d woken screaming.

I rolled over to bury
my face in the pillow, firmly denying the impulse to call
Hellhound. He’d already turned me down once tonight. Begging would
just be pathetic.

I got up for a drink
of water before lying down again, deliberately relaxing my muscles
one by one. Yoga breathing. In. Out. Slow like ocean waves.

My mind circled. Stemp
had backed me into a corner from which there was no escape. Car:
gone forever. Cover story: no hope there. And Kane?

I blew out a sigh and
turned over, yanking the blankets up around my shoulders.

No point in fighting
to get Kane back as my handler. He had done his duty. He deserved a
chance to go back to the life he wanted to live. Now that Stemp
knew Kane hadn’t been compromised after all, he shouldn’t have any
trouble getting another assignment.

I rolled over again,
rubbing my aching forehead with the heel of my hand.

Yoga breathing. In.
Out. Slow like ocean waves.

Dammit.

In the dull light of
early morning, I shivered my way out to the garage. A chill wind
scooped up the light snow from the ground to hiss against the vinyl
siding as I slipped into the comforting warmth of the building.

The empty bay stabbed
my already-aching heart. My Saturn was the first and only car I’d
bought almost-new. Almost two hundred thousand miles on the clock,
and it had never let me down. Now it was a gutted, twisted
wreck.

Kind of like my
life.

I shook off the
thought and climbed into my battered half-ton truck to head for
Silverside.

On the highway I
peered through watering eyes, trying to stay alert while I nearly
yawned myself inside-out. By the time I parked in the Sirius
Dynamics parking lot, I’d tried and failed to achieve an attitude
adjustment.

I hauled my
foul-tempered self up the stairs and into the spartan lobby. The
security guard watched in unemotional silence while I signed in,
and I plodded upstairs feeling thoroughly under-appreciated.
Nothing like a heart-warming display of friendship to start your
day off right.

The corridors were
deserted, and I grumbled my way toward my office, scowling at the
carpet. When I turned the corner into my doorway, a burst of
adrenaline made me snatch for my gun, my hand in motion before my
brain fully registered the threat.

I aborted the movement
at the last moment when comprehension dawned.

“Welcome back!”

A chorus of voices and
a roomful of grinning faces made me convert my grab for my waist
holster into a clutch at my chest in an attempt to prevent my heart
from punching through my ribs.

“Welcome back, Aydan!”
Spider crowed as he flung his lanky arms around me. “Thank God
you’re all right!”

I returned his hug,
trying to catch my breath and slow my panicked pulse. I felt a grin
spreading over my face at the sight of the balloons taped to my
desk. There was even a cake.

That explained the
presence of the many researchers whom I knew only slightly. Hey, I
didn’t blame them. Free cake, hello.

Stemp was mercifully
absent, but Richardson stood near the back of the room, flanked by
Sam Kraus on one side and Honey… er… Jack Travers on the other. My
bubble was slightly deflated by her presence, but I shrugged and
let it go as I turned to respond to Spider’s excited chatter.

Under the cover of
circulating bodies, I slid my note into his hand. He stiffened as
he scanned it and gave me a single wide-eyed look before nodding
and drifting away, looking entirely too casual.

I shot a nervous
glance around the room, but everyone seemed to be concentrating on
eating. I relaxed. So far, so good.

Some time later, the
researchers abandoned the decimated cake like jackals slinking away
from a stripped carcass, and the population of my office dwindled
to Spider, Richardson, Sam, Honey, and John Smith.

Richardson spoke,
sounding apologetic. “We’re your team, I guess. Dr. Travers and I
are the only ones who don’t know the ropes, so tell me what you
want me to do.”

Honey laid a hand on
his arm. “Please call me Jack. And I hope you won’t mind if I call
you Mark.”

Richardson shot her a
slightly bashful glance. “No problem, Jack.”

Clouds parted and
angels sang when she smiled at him and squeezed his arm
appreciatively. I turned away to hide my amusement at Richardson’s
valiant attempt to appear unaffected.

“Aydan just goes into
the virtual network and does her thing,” Spider explained to
Richardson. “You’ll go in with her in case she needs somebody to
pull her out for some reason, because we can’t wake her externally
the way we can everybody else.”

Richardson shuddered.
“No, and I don’t ever want to see her dragged out of the network
again. That was horrible.”

Spider’s youthful face
creased in concern as he eyed me. “Aydan, are you sure you’re up to
this? You look really tired.”

“Thanks, Spider, I’m
fine,” I assured him. “What will Jack and Sant-… Sam be doing?”

Sam chuckled, his
round belly jiggling, and I laughed, too. “Sorry, Sam. I just can’t
get used to not calling you Santa Claus.”

“You still can, you
know. You did for so many years.”

I grinned. “Only if
you bring me treats the way you used to when I was a kid.”

“Maybe I should,” Sam
joked. “Maybe it would make you happier when you have to go into my
lab downstairs.”

“Yeah.” I forced a
chuckle. “I don’t think a candy cane is going to cut it, though.
Try a five-course gourmet meal, and then we’ll talk.”

“Too rich for my
budget. Anyway, to answer your question, Jack’s area of expertise
is…” Sam sobered and hesitated, glancing at the other occupants of
the room. “…the project you tested a few days ago,” he
finished.

His usual jolly
demeanour reasserted itself and he smiled, his blue eyes twinkling
above his rosy cheeks and snowy beard. “We think your project will
tie in very well with that development, so Jack has been
temporarily assigned to your team, and I’m assisting her with her
research in return.”